Daughter Of The Moon
by thegreatbee
Summary: Jane Steele, at the age of eight, ran a mile in under two minutes and was forced to keep it a secret from the world. At the age of ten, she found out why. After being mauled by a hellhound, her father sends her to Camp Half-Blood. There, she learns that her mother is Artemis. Read as she goes on a thrilling adventure to rescue her father, years after going away to Camp.
1. Chapter 1

I knew that I was different.

Sure, I thought I was different in the way any eight-year-old thought. In the random, bubbly, cheerful type of different that was exactly the same as any other girl my age. But I didn't realize exactly how different I was until I started running track.

I could fly down that dusty old track in record speeds, wearing down Nike after Nike as I spent hours in that little raceway a block from my house in the Californian woods. My father was a runner himself, but never as fast as I was. In fact, nobody was as fast as I was. My two-minute mile was, by far, the fastest in recorded history.

For reasons I didn't know of, Dad refused to call in a personal coach or some official to record my historic time, and now I knew. At the time, however, I didn't understand.

You see, we were rich. There's no sugar coating it. I'm not a rags-to-riches sob story. Dad would buy me so many different pairs of running shoes, and for a few months, we decided to see which lasted the longest. The result were a sleek-looking pair of Nike shoes that cost a lot more money than we would've liked. Dad never complained, though, and for that I was grateful. I had a guilty conscience.

After a year or two of running, Dad took me to the little school gym nearby. We lived in a heavily wooded area of California, and the school was a small private thing. I always wondered how Dad had gotten so much money, but you couldn't tell that we were a rich family unless you saw my shoes. Dad told me that it was inherited by his father, and I had believed him. I had never met Grandpa Christopher, but based on his portrait hanging in the hallway, he wasn't as humble as us.

Dad taught at the school, so he had a key to the gym whenever we needed it. And we used it quite a lot.

When it would rain, I would hit the treadmill. I spent days in that gym, working on my body. Even at the age of ten I knew that I had to make the most of my physical gifts, and I certainly did. I never got bulky, but my body was a cord of tight muscle, and I loved it.

I was jogging back to my house when my life changed forever.

The impact hit my shoulder first, and then the rest of my body. A massive black dog the size of an SUV growled on top of me, its claws gripping my arms and ripping through my biceps.. Not enough to kill, but enough to scar.

I gasped with pain, and my mind reeled. I screamed as the dog attempted to sink its teeth into my head, but I twisted away at the perfect time and it instead swallowed a mouthful of dirt.

I rolled as its grip loosened, and my right arm made contact with the ground through my torn-up shirt. I sucked in a breath as pain paralyzed my body and my limbs stiffened. Sinking my fingernails into the dirt, I tried to pull myself away, but the dog landed on top of me.

It took the air from my lungs, and I was reminded of when I first started running. It was my second week on the track, and I ran, and I was screaming with delight when I stumbled and fell at thirty miles an hour.

Dad has sprinted down the track, and at first I thought that everything was okay, and then I saw how twisted my wrist was. I had scrapes all over my body, but other than a broken wrist, everything really was okay. Dad had taken a deep breath and set my wrist before we went to the hospital, and I had to wear a cast for a few weeks before being able to move my wrist freely once again.

When the dog attacked me, I felt no adrenaline rush. Just a wave of pain.

The dog had clawed open my calf when my father had come out of nowhere, wearing his normal carefully pressed outfit. In fact, he looked just the same as he always did, save for the golden sword in his hand.

He cut the dog and his grip on the sword twisted, allowing the dog to whip around and make three shallow cuts on Dad's cheek, my blood still on his claws. It barked and Dad finished it off with a neat cut along its throat.

He threw away his sword before kneeling beside me. His eyes were pained and full of sorrow, and I knew it wasn't because of the crippling wounds in my arms, although he had taken off his shirt and was pressing it into the cuts.

I was sobbing now, tears chasing one another down my face, a twisted race to see who could reach my chin first. And my father had ditched his shirt, instead pressing his bare hands into the wounds on either arm, screwing up his face as he whispered to himself, chanting words silently until the blood had stopped and the only thing left were two thin, pale scars.

That was my first experience with the gods of Olympus, and I'd never forget it. Dad had hastily took me back to our house and stuffed a duffel bag with two changes of clothes, four-hundred dollars, and a long bronze knife.

We were driving to the little airport nearby when he began to speak, his words breaking and trembling.

"I'm so sorry, little girl," He cried, tears silently racing down his cheeks. "I wish I could explain. You're going to visit your family, okay?"

I nodded, still shaking and curled up in the back seat of the car. "What's happening?"

Dad shook his head. "It's much bigger than you and me, Jane. Much, much bigger. And you're not safe here. I wish I could tell you, Jane. I'm so, so freaking sorry."

There was something about his voice that made me shut up. He never cried, not even when he told me about my mother and got a faraway look in his eyes. Sure, his eyes had gotten misty and watered a bit, but he had never cried in front of me before.

Therefore, within the hour, I was in a little private airplane with a girl in silver who held my hand. She looked about sixteen, but her eyes were so much older.

I landed in New York and was at Camp Half-Blood that night. The girl had explained everything to me on the plane, telling me that my mother was a very important woman and that I was going to a safe place. That my mother was more than an important person, she was a goddess. The goddess Artemis.

Dad had raised me on Greek Mythology, telling me stories of Zeus, Poseidon, Hades, Athena, Hephaestus, and all of the gods. Especially Artemis.

He would tell me about her divine beauty, how her auburn hair was so smooth and soft, how she was short but with a body like mine, not bulky but definitely fit. He spoke of her in a dreamy voice, his eyes becoming unfocused and a smile dancing on his handsome features. He spoke to me of his time hunting, how he felt so close to Artemis in those times, as if she was alive and next to him.

And now I realized that it wasn't _as if _she were alive. She was alive, and had hunted with my father.

I protested that she couldn't be my mother, than she was a virgin goddess. But the girl shook her head, a small smile on her face.

"No, darling. She had never loved a man before your father. That's why you can run so fast, that you can do the things that you do." She squeezed my hand reassuringly. "You are so strong, darling."

Strong I was. Strong enough to run a mile in under two minutes, strong enough to survive even momentarily a hellhound's bite.

But not strong enough to hold myself together.

I cried to the girl, who held me close. I cried for my father, who had been forced to separate himself from me. I cried for the old track that had been my best friend. And most of all, I cried for the mother I never had.


	2. Chapter 2

I thrust towards my opponent, and felt his skin give as my knife pierced through his armor. He made no sound, however, and his expression didn't even change.

I wanted it to change. I didn't have time for that, though, and I twisted around, gnashing my teeth as I threw one of my knives at the next man coming towards me. He abruptly stopped, but didn't make any noise.

As soon as the hilt left my hand, I drew my sword and ripped the face of my first opponent open. Fluff floated to the floor as the dummy magically mended itself, and I heard a slow clapping from the door.

"Well done, Jane," Brandon Wellen grinned, leaning against a rack of weapons. He was an Apollo kid, and looked it, too: His short blond hair, golden eyes, and tan skin made girls melt. Not me, though.

"What are you doing here, Brandon? It's three in the morning." I snapped, sheathing my sword. I couldn't sleep, so I decided to get in practice so I wouldn't have to tomorrow. Plus, I enjoyed the satisfaction of winning, even if it was against a burlap dummy.

"I could be asking you the same thing," Brandon took an arrow from the rack and balanced it in his hand. "But to answer your question, the harpies woke me up. They wouldn't stop chattering outside of our bunk, and the rest of the guys decided to watch a movie. I wasn't interested."

I raised an eyebrow. I had never trusted Brandon, but I didn't want to argue right now. Suddenly, I was exhausted.

"Look, Brandon, I'm tired. I don't know what you want, but whatever it is, I don't have it." My voice was weary. I was slipping on my coat when he spoke, his voice smooth and hinted with a smile.

"Oh, come on, Jane. Every single guy in camp wants you, and you don't want anyone. Why won't you just open up? You've been here for seven years, and you haven't shown anyone who you truly are. Anyone except for that one Nike girl."

"Kate?" I shook my head, slipping my throwing knives into the lightweight vest I used for training. "You're not doing anything to help your case, Brandon."

Kate had been my best friend for seven years, having taken me in when nobody else bothered to speak to me. She was currently in the middle of her freshman year at NYU, and I was more than happy for her.

"What? She's a Nike kid. They don't have much going for them other than a competitive spirit and some leaves." He shrugged. "Come on, Jane. What's the real reason? I can do it all for you. I can shoot a bow, I can heal people, and look at me! I was blessed with Apollo's looks." He made a wide gesture to himself, and a sneer started on my lip.

"My dad's your brother, Brandon. Even if I was attracted to you, it'd be too weird." I shuddered internally at the idea of kissing my cousin. But the godly side of your ancestors didn't matter, Chiron told me. As long as you didn't date a cabinmate, it was like going out with any other person.

"That didn't stop Artemis!" Brandon called as I pushed out of the door and into the snow. There was almost three inches of it down, and it was amazing. I never saw snow in California.  
>"She went out with your dad, who's her <em>nephew<em>!"

I shook my head, trudging towards my cabin, and was relieved to notice that Brandon wasn't following me.

The Artemis cabin was lonely thing, as I was something of an oddity. The first and, most likely, last, child of Artemis in history. Don't get me wrong, I respected Artemis completely, but I would like her a bit more if I had a sibling.

Normally, it was empty. Sometimes, the Huntresses stopped by for a week or two, and that was fun, but I had to urge to join them. I wasn't interested in living while constantly pursuing something. I wanted to settle down, to live life to the fullest. And I couldn't do that as a Huntress.

The cabin was separated into two rooms. There was a little foyer when you first walked in, a nice wooden table with a portrait of Artemis and a bow hanging on the wall. To the right was the room that the Huntresses used, a simple arrangement of bunk beds. To the left was mine.

It was pretty big, and looked like a normal room. In fact, you'd think it was a normal room, save for the long bronze sword hanging on one wall and the rack containing my vest of throwing knives and a bow.

The rest was normal. It had plush carpets and a queen-sized bed, a flat-screen television and an Xbox. My room was a hit during the day when the other campers would rent out my television, as most cabins didn't have the luxury. I had worked at the camp store for five years to save enough money for my room, and I wasn't about to let people use it for free.

I prided myself on the room, the assortment of book and movie posters on the wall, and the air of normalcy I still had in the middle of this strange camp. Strange, yes, but it was my home. I loved it, and in fact, it was the only thing I allowed myself to love.

After changing into pajama pants and an old Knicks shirt, I collapsed onto my bed. Curled up under the thick silver comforter along with me were my hopes and my doubts, my dreams and my nightmares, and my real life. Here I allowed myself to think freely, to let everything I have shoved away during the day break free like water breaking through a dam.

I considered Brandon. He was a creep, no doubt about it. Anyone who followed me like him deserved one thing, and that was a restraining order.

At least there was the new demigod to look forward to. He was going to arrive in the morning, and, as the senior counselor for Artemis and Percy's right hand man, or, er, woman, I was in charge of giving him a luxury tour of the place.

I could imagine it now, like the tours I had done before him. _Ah, yes, here is the rock wall! I hope you enjoy getting burnt, because there's no way around it! _or, _Don't listen to the nereids! A kid last year almost drowned because of them!_

Yeah, from the outside Camp sounded incredibly dangerous with no real value to it. But those of us who actually called this place home knew that while it was dangerous, it was home. And home is where I intend to stay.


	3. Chapter 3

I woke up to the obligatory morning conch shell, and groaned quietly. Normally, having been up until three I would have skipped breakfast, but today was different. The only thing keeping me going was the prospect of meeting and leading around the new guy. He arrived earlier today, and I still had to plan out his tour.

Tour guides usually didn't plan out this much, but I enjoyed it. Which was funny, because while I enjoyed planning tours like this out, I tended to launch myself into battle without a second thought.

I pulled on jeans and a camp shirt, gathering my hair back in a ponytail. I didn't want to have to spend too long in the little tiny cabin bathroom before heading out, as I'd most likely get dirty anyway.

The shell blew a second time, a reminder for those who slept through the first. I hopped out of the door on one foot, hurriedly tying one of my tennis shoes, and jogged to the dining pavillion. Of course, my jog was about twenty miles if I held back, but today I didn't want to exert my energy too much.

I pounded up the marble steps and to my table. I furrowed my eyebrows as I noticed one of the plates missing on the solid marble table, but shrugged it off. Maybe the new kid?

After scraping some hash browns into the fire, I returned to find a girl sitting across from my seat, scribbling some numbers onto a piece of notebook paper. My breath caught in my throat as she looked up, her shoulder-length blond hair styled perfectly as always.

"Kate!" I put my plate down before wrapping her into a hug. Kate was supposed to be enrolled in school, but I guess that she was on winter break. I was surprised, however, as normally she would stay with her parents.

She hesitated a bit before returning my smile with one of her own. "It's so nice to see you," She murmured next to my ear. "But we need to talk."

I ended up eating on one of the snowy benches near the cabins with Kate, tired demigods shuffling by every now and then. I balanced my plate on my knees as Kate picked at her food, watching her face as she stirred her eggs around.

"What's wrong?" I finally asked. "Why aren't you in school?"

Kate sighed. "School let out for winter break yesterday," Her voice was sad. "But I don't care about that. Something big is happening, Jane, something bigger than we can handle."

Kate, even though she was a daughter of Nike, had always been able to sense danger before it happened. Nobody knew why, or how, but it was extremely helpful however it worked.

I knew that she couldn't elaborate, so I bit my lip before answering. "In what way? What did you feel?"

"It was a burning," Kate rubbed her forehead and set her plate on the ground. "It was so intense. It was if I had swallowed fire, like it was melting my chest."

"Maybe indigestion?" I offered jokingly, but she shook her head wildly.

"Something is going to happen, and it maybe already happened. I just…" Kate's hands shook, and she pitched forward.

She collapsed into the concrete and I knelt down, turning her over.

"Kate!" I cried out, digging my fingers into the snow, not knowing what to do. The wind picked up, and my food had turned over. The light grey sky above was slowly turning darker and darker, and soon enough, my hair was whipping my face, coming out of its ponytail.

Kate was still out cold. I shook her shoulders, called out to her, but her eyelids didn't even flutter. A green mist had started to curl around her body, and I was jerked away by an invisible presence.

The wind stopped. The demigod running towards us a way away froze. A snowflake was suspended in midair an inch from my nose, but I could move.

A tall, handsome man stood in front of me. He had short blond hair and tan skin, like Brandon, but he held an air of authority and his face was grim. On his eyes were a pair of blacked-out sunglasses, as if he was blind. He wore a perfectly tailored suit.

"Apollo?" I whispered, falling to my knees out of respect. The god smiled at his name, as if it had helped him.

"Always nice to visit, isn't it?" He paced, plucking snowflakes from the air. "Although, the circumstances are rather grim."

"Sir?" My voice was weak and hoarse. Another question nagged at my mind. "How did you stop time?"

Apollo shrugged. "I didn't. You're unconscious. Actually, you're on the ground right now, and your friend Kate is freaking out over you. You should be grateful," He looked slightly miffed. "I had to give up one of my finest lyres to Hypnos for this, demigod."

I fought back a smile. From the descriptions given by Percy, Apollo was everything he said him to be.

"Anyway, I'm here to tell you something." He shook his head, as if clearing his thoughts. "Sis is busy, but she had a message."

I was slightly annoyed. In all of the years at camp and even before at home, I had never seen my mother. Artemis was supposed to be a more common goddess to see, but when she happened to show her face at camp, I was either in Camp Jupiter for a meeting or in the city. It was as if she was avoiding me.

Now she had her brother doing her errands? I tried to push away my annoyance, but it was tough. Angry or not, however, I had to listen.

"First off," Apollo cleared his throat, raising his hands to cup the back of his head, stretching his fancy black suit. "You have a big job ahead of you, demigod, and I hope you're ready for it. Due to the fact that I, Apollo, am the totally awesome god of prophecies, I have one now. It's a bit rough, but, you know. Beggars can't be choosers, isn't that right, Jane?"

I finally cracked a grin, and Apollo shined one back, his teeth blindingly white. He took off his sunglasses, and my grin melted.

His eyes were pure gold. No whites, no pupil, nothing. The richest shade of gold, full of happiness, laughter, and sunlight. The snow around him instantly melted, and I felt the sun hit my face like it was a hot summer day. And then he spoke.

I guess I expected something big or whatever, but I didn't get anything big. Instead, he pulled an index card from a pocket in his suit, and glanced at the words while speaking in a falsely deep voice.

"Uh, five demigods will…" He scratched his head, his eyes still shining. "What? Gods, my handwriting is bad…" He tossed it aside.

Apollo grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, whatever. I'll just give you a summary. Five of you silly mortals will go on a quest. The quest is somewhere cold, and you'll face hardships."

What in the world? I had no idea where this was going, and I decided to speak back.

"I need more directions," I complained, putting my hands on my hips. "It's the middle of December. Of course it'll be cold, almost anywhere near here that I go."

Apollo laughed. "Okay, okay. Cold… Year-round cold," He added, and I nodded, urging him on. "Alright. Five demigods. Year-round cold. Be back by Christmas. And, oh yeah, if you're not back by Christmas…" Another smile, this time one like a shark. "You're screwed."

My heart grew cold. Although Apollo was kind of an idiot and these weren't clear instructions at all, I knew better than to assume he was lying.

"Fine," I managed, rubbing my forehead. "Fine, okay. But what am I looking for? Why?"

Apollo only smiled before a puff of fire overtook him and he was gone.

I woke up groggily, snowflakes falling in my eyes and my bones frozen. Kate was standing above me, her mouth an O and her hand on her cheek. I knew that I should've felt cold, but I actually felt toasty warm, and I noticed that Kate was the only one around me in a puddle of water.

My sweatshirt was soaked through with sweat and water, and I blinked groggily as I realized that yes, Apollo was right. It wasn't Kate on the ground. It was me.

Leaning forward, I struggled to sit up, and a firm hand gripped my shoulder blade, helping me up. But both of Kate's hands were helping me from the front, and nobody else was near me, so I instinctively jerked forward.

I turned around sharply, and saw a loose ring of demigods around me. But one demigod in particular was right next to me, his eyes an inch away.

I was met with a pair of navy blue eyes that bore into my head before Kate grabbed my arm and pulled me away. Before getting a good look at the demigod, he was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

It took only a few minutes for Percy to be on the scene, yelling at the other demigods to leave as he whisked us to his office in the Big House.

Percy used to share a room with Annabeth in the Big House, but since her death four or five years ago he had taken to sleeping in his office, on the floor. Last year I had helped construct the Bunk, a large building near the Big House that was three floors tall and had five rooms and two bathrooms on each floor. I was offered a room due to my services, but I had declined. Apparently, so did Percy.

The room was the picture of perfection. There was a small hammock on one side of the room-his bed- and not a stray piece of dust anywhere on the wall or floor. A minotaur horn was on its side on a bookshelf, and a Yankees hat lay on his desk.

He straightened a notebook before sitting down. The notebook was decorated with a strip of duct tape reading _KEEP OUT! SECRET ARCHITECTURE!_

I didn't know that Percy was big into architecture, but I assume it belonged to Annabeth. I remember seeing them before she fell ill, laughing together and kissing underneath the dark, night summer sky when they thought nobody was watching. Once she got sick, a year after my arrival, she spent an entire year in their bedroom, fighting for her life. Eventually, she lost.

Everyone at camp could see Percy slowly deflate, and now, at the age of thirty-something, his hair was streaked with gray and his face hinted at wrinkles from frowning.

I explained to him about Apollo and my dream, my voice quivering as if I was in shock. I sure did feel like it.

Once I had finished, Percy stood. He looked incredibly calm, coming from behind his desk and pacing around the room with a particular look on his face. He had grown out a salt-and-pepper beard close to his face, and scratched it thoughtfully.

"No prophecy?" He asked, staring out of the window to the ocean.

"No, sir."

"No name?"

"No, sir."

"No location?"

"No, sir."

"Any _idea _of what to look for? Any hint, any word that he spoke without meaning?" Percy slammed his fists down onto the windowsill, and I jumped in my chair. "Anything, Jane? Anything!"

My mouth drifted open. I had heard of Percy's short, uncontrollable temper, but had never experienced it firsthand. Although it wasn't directed to me, I still felt terrified. "All that he said was that my final destination would be someplace cold, someplace that is always cold. And he wanted me to trust the gods."

Percy leaned against the window, his hands above his head and bracing himself as snow fell gently. He was silent for a long time. Then he chuckled softly, shaking his head.

"Well, you two," He turned, running a hand through his thick hair. "The gods aren't always to be trusted."

As soon as the words left his mouth, a ball of fire hit the camp.

"_Di immortales!_" Percy swore, and then ran out of the door. Kate and I were right on his heels as the screaming and curses of demigods filled the air.

Chiron blew his horn. Although he was more of a counselor than a director, he still held authority over the camp. I could hear his voice now, deep and powerful. "Cabins Hephaestus and Poseidon, to me! Everyone else, to your cabins at once!"

Kate and I kept running, as we were both the most senior demigods other than Percy and a handful of others, whom I assumed were now by Chiron instead of inside of their cabins. We had been informed that no matter the circumstances, we were to be relied on. Right now, we couldn't be relied on from our cabins.

We met just next to the dining pavillion, where a massive flaming boulder had crashed into the earth. It was as big as the pavillion itself, and I guessed that until we could make repairs, we would have to eat elsewhere.

Percy looked at the pavillion with a sadness in his eyes, and I saw him rub his foot against the deep scar on the steps that had been apart of the pavillion since I had first gotten here. Obviously, this was a very emotional time for him, but now wasn't the time for emotion. It was the time for action.

Snow was still falling, sparking where it hit the rock, and I shivered as the flakes tickled my skin. I had no idea what was going on. But I had to be a leader today.

To my surprise, next to the other veterans, the new demigod stood in the midst of them. I had found it odd that he was so old and just now being taken to Camp, but now I guessed that he had either spent time at Camp Jupiter or had just been extremely lucky. Now, I leaned to the latter, especially now that I saw a dark tattoo on the inside of his forearm.

Will Solace stood next to Clarisse La Rue and Leo Valdez, who was holding hands with his wife Calypso. The Hephaestus and Poseidon cabins were behind them, silent and stony-faced.

Percy was looking shell-shocked, as he did most days, so Chiron nodded to me to speak. Instantly, I knew what to say. I was used to being in this position.

"Okay," I began, clapping my hands together. "I would be lying if I said that I had any clue on what is currently going on. I have no idea if another one of these things will crash, so there will be a risk. Therefore, if you aren't willing to take that risk, it's totally fine. You can leave now."

As expected, nobody budged, and instead a few Hephaestus kids grinned and pushed up their sleeves. Leo was smiling softly.

"Great. You, you, and you," I pointed to three of the five Poseidon kids, who were all solemn and ready for work. "Douse the rock with water from either the lake or the ocean, and keep doing so until it's okay for us to head down. After that, the Hephaestus cabin will go down, get samples, whatever is necessary. The leftover Poseidon kids, you'll help when the Hephaestus cabin is working on the rock, dousing fires and cooling metal or whatever they need." I took a breath and turned to the group of veteran campers, who were nodding after Percy explained my vision to them. "I'm assuming that we need to be armed right now. Go to the armoury, get everything prepared. Don't hand them out yet, but sort them into piles or anything that you need to do. I trust you guys to make the right decision."

The demigods nodded solemnly and set to work instantly, the Hephaestus kids running off to get tools as the Poseidon cabin raised their arms, water from the beach lifting into the air from far away and slowly moving towards our group.

Kate went with the other campers to sort out weapons, but the new camper and Percy stayed. They spoke softly, and hushed as I came over. I paid no attention, however, and met Percy's eyes.

"Why is he here?" My voice came out harsher than I intended, but Percy hung his head. "Who is this guy?"

The camper opened his mouth to explain, but Percy cut him off. "He was a centurion at Camp Jupiter, and made the choice a few months ago to come here. He spoke with Frank and Reyna, got everything prepared, and here he is. William Stone, son of Hecate."

I glanced at Will. His face was solemn but not hostile. It was the look of a man who had been though much, but still kept a cool head. Either way, I felt a twinge of uncertainty. We used to have a Hecate kid at camp, but she had left to Camp Jupiter. I was never glad to see a camper go, but she was just creepy.

Will didn't _look _creepy. His eyes were a deep, interesting shade of navy framed by long eyelashes and straight eyebrows. His jawline was sharp, his cheekbones high, and his skin slightly tanned even in December.

December.

The word stopped me short. Today was the fifteenth of December.

Ten more days until Christmas. Ten more days until we were, quote, screwed.

I was just about to mention that as a shadow crawled from the gigantic pit, a long and lean animal that foamed at the mouth and howled to the gray sky.

A werewolf. Lycanthropes usually didn't show themselves, but this one didn't seem to be with a pack. Either way, it ran towards us with eyes like pits of pure hatred.

My hand found my sword belt, but Will was faster. In an instant, fire that matched the color of his eyes shot from his hands, covering the werewolf in thick, blazing hot flames. Percy had his pen out in a second, but I had already thrown one of my small knives at the creature. It cried out.

I didn't feel at ease, and I was right not to. It shook off the flames like they were a mere annoyance and leapt for Will, who was caught off guard. It had managed to rake its claws down his hoodie when I plunged my sword into its side, twisting and creating a cloud of dust where it once was.

The dust gleamed. Will fell to his knees, gasping as blood soaked through his shirt, and I squinted at the dust pile. Percy was calling for a medic, his voice high and cracking, and I knelt.

It was a key. The key shone dully, and as I moved the dust out of the way I noticed that it was rusty and discolored. As I reached to grab it, I heard Will shout, "_Don't do it! Stop!"_

It was too late. Will lunged forward as I touched the key, and the second our fingers knotted over the tarnished metal my stomach dropped and the world spun around me, wind howling in my ears and the earth disappearing from underneath em.

I ended up next to Will, who coughed on his knees and took off his hoodie. He pressed it to his chest, but didn't seem to be in too much pain. I guessed that before, he was immobilized due to shock.

I looked around. We were no longer in camp, instead in a forest full of tall pine trees and a dirt path running throughout.

Wait.

Not _a _forest.

_My _forest.

**Author's Note**

**Thank you guys for reading, and I hope you enjoy the rest of the story! I do, however, understand that some of you assumed that Percy was her father. No, Percy is not and will not be her father in this story, and Jane's father is someone else entirely who will, in fact, be in the next chapter! Again, thank you so much for reading and if you have any ideas whatsoever for the story, don't hesitate to send me a message! Thank you!**


	5. Chapter 5

I expected to feel a falling sensation, but instead I felt only clarity. I knew exactly where I was, how to get to the track, to my home, into the small town nearby.

"D'you recognize this place?" Will asked, furrowing his eyebrows. He didn't look fazed at all, and in fact looked as if he was expecting this. "That stupid key took us here. It must have been something to do with your quest, Jane."

"This is where I used to live," I replied hoarsely. "In these woods. My house is just a few miles away." I rubbed my forehead, sighing. "I'm such an idiot. It's my fault that we're here."

"No, you're not an idiot," Will's voice was surprisingly urgent. "Don't say that. I'll admit that you made a mistake, but you're not an idiot. Idiot or not, though, we need to get something to bind this wound on my chest, and quickly. Call me a wimp, but I'd prefer not to get an infection. After that, we can send an Iris-Message, find some weapons, and make our way back to camp after gathering some clues."

I nodded, feeling even more like an idiot regardless of what he said. I should be the one taking charge, not this demigod who I'd never met before. Starting down the path, I could remember perfectly the way home. While I wanted to go to my house, I was hesitant, as I didn't know what my father would think of me. He had sent me on a plane to New York seven years ago, and I hadn't seen anything of him since.

Did he hate me? Would he remember me? Did he remarry? Does he even love me? Would he remember my face? The questions were unwanted and only continued to plague me as we neared my house in an awkward silence, Will grunting if we had to make a jump or squeeze between trees.

After about two hours, the path broadened into a gravel road, which widened even further into a smoothly paved driveway that lead to a large wooden house.

It was nestled on a hill, so it looked a lot taller than it actually was. It was a traditional cabin with a twist: Three floors contained around five rooms and a game room on the second, and a deluxe kitchen on the first. Dad had always loved to cook. The third floor was smaller than the other two and solely consisted of my room, a walk-in closet, and a bathroom. Again, I had no idea where Dad had gotten the money, but I never questioned.

Especially not now. Not now, when our relationship would be delicate at best. Not now, when he had sent me off to succeed and all I brought to show was an injured camper and a hoodie that was primarily used for sleeping in on cold days.

That didn't matter.

I was home.

I paused at the threshold of the door, biting my lip. Will hadn't spoken, which was for the best. I don't think I could've replied.

We stood on a wooden patio that overlooked a small pond nearby, the same pond where I learned how to fish and how to swim. Most of all, how to hunt. I was a natural. Of course, it would be odd had I not shot a bow with perfect accuracy. I was the daughter of Artemis, after all.

Everything looked the same. Neat and clean, just how both of us had to live. Messiness was not tolerated, and we constantly joked that while our small family appeared nice at first, track mud into the house and you'd see our bad side. I used to find it slightly annoying, Dad's acute cleanliness. Now, I wanted it more than ever.

I didn't know what I wanted. Did I want a warm reunion? A stony one? Did I want him to sweep me into his arms like he used to do and squeeze too hard on his hugs? Or did I want a door slammed shut in my face, only catch a glimpse of the man that used to be my best friend?

"I don't mean to rush," Will was panting quietly. "But I don't know how long I can hold up."

His voice was a gentle push back to consciousness, and without thinking, I raised my fist and knocked on the heavy door that I used to think weighed a hundred pounds.

After a few seconds, the door opened and there stood my father.

He wore a zipped up black jacket and a Clippers hat, and salt-and-pepper stubble decorated his face. His eyes were friendly, but they had sort of an emptiness to them, and I noticed right away the miniscule tremor in his hands. My father had always been a thin man, but he looked gaunt now. Not in the face, however, which looked at the same time youthful yet older. He held a glass full of water in one hand and the doorknob in the other.

We locked eyes, and his mouth drifted open. It was really him. How would he react to me? I wanted to cover up the long, thin scar on my palm that I had gotten while holding a sword for the first time. I wanted to shift my hair to cover the minute scar on the side of my neck, from a game of Capture the Flag when an arrow had grazed me by mistake.

While worrying about myself, though, I appraised him. In the face, he looked the same, smile wrinkled the only think taking away his handsome looks. My father was a good-looking man, and many times different women would try and date him. He had always refused, instead spending his Friday nights with me watching terrible Disney movies and popping popcorn.

Will shifted his feet behind me, and it seemed to snap my dad back into the present. He dropped his glass and it shattered at his feet, but he surged forward, wrapping his arms around me and crying at the same time. Tears spilled onto my cheeks as well, and with no hesitation I breathed in the smoky scent of my father. He smelled like smoke from the little bonfire behind our house, the same as he did years ago.

He pulled away and took a shuddering breath.

"We need to talk." His voice cracked as he turned and went into the house, wiping his eyes with his jacket collar.

Within a few minutes, Will was properly bandaged and both of us were cradling cups of hot chocolate near the fireplace in our living room. I sat in my favorite armchair, a fancy black futon. In sharp contrast to the outside of the house, the inside was very contemporary and very open. Will lay on the couch, exhausted from the day, and I couldn't blame him. Dad sat opposite him on a leather armchair, wringing a mug in his large hands.

We sat in silence for an eternity that lasted a minute. Then, after what felt like an eon, Dad spoke.

"I called the camp every week," His voice was hoarse. "I want to know if you were safe. Every day for seven years, I worried, and I prayed, to all of the gods and to God himself." Dad wiped his eyes and sniffed in the manly way where you didn't want to show that you sniffed, so you acted like you just kind of swiped at your nose and twitched a bit. "You probably know by now that my father was Apollo. If I would've heard of any bit of danger in the camp, I would've come. I set up calls with Percy and Chiron every Friday, to keep up, and I was told that you were one of the best they had seen."

Dad wasn't trying to hide his sniffles now. He choked out a sob. "I missed you so, so, so much. I wanted to keep you safe, and I didn't want you in the militaristic environment of Camp Jupiter." He glanced sideways at Will, who nodded.

"That's why I left." Will's voice was low and full of respect. "Camp Jupiter is amazing. But some people are cut out to be soldiers, and some are simply not." He shrugged. "I wasn't, and even from knowing you for this long, Jane, I know that you aren't either. Taking orders isn't our sort of thing."

I nodded, and Dad continued. "I was at Camp Jupiter for years, and I learned so much. For those who want to think freely and invent and be creative, though, Camp Half-Blood was perfect. So I got my tattoo covered up, and tried to forget about it."

On his left arm, Dad had a half-sleeve from his wrist to his elbow. It was a beautiful black forest that hadn't faded with time, and he rubbed it now self-consciously.

Will shrugged. "I may cover mine up when I get older, but I don't have the money now. I used to, but I'd imagine that unless they have some artists at Half-Blood, and I imagine they do, my tattoos are on hold."

"Tattoos?" I asked. Will had stripped off his hoodie in the forest and was wearing a black shirt underneath, the sleeved rolled up to the middle of his forearm. Will didn't reply, instead rolling up his sleeve to reveal two parallel lines wrapping around his biceps. They were about as thick as a pencil, jet-black and, actually, quite plain.

At our bewildered looks, Will explained. "I call them tattoos, because the explanation is kind of weird. I was born with these on my arm, and they seem to help me out, in a way. When a source of danger or a threat is near, it burns. Sometimes, it hurts. Once, it turned white in a battle." He shrugged. "A gift from Mom, maybe?"

We were silent, not knowing what to say. An hour later, however, we had done a lot of talking. I told Dad about my time at Camp Half-Blood, and Will shared his own experiences. He had turned down praetorship three times over the years, and instead wanted to merely fight with everyone else as a soldier. Eventually, he accepted the rank of centurion, but had left a month later. Dad told us of his years, how he was a big-shot praetor until a battle wound had kept in bedridden for months until an Apollo kid had finally made a breakthrough in medicines and left him with only a thin pink scar on his back. After that, however, he fell into a depression. Then he met Artemis.

He spoke of her with a voice full of awe, as if she was the best thing to ever happen to him. Dad met her as he stood at the bank of the Little Tiber on a day when hurricanes ravaged the state and contemplated jumping. Everything was looking down; his best friend, Jackson, had just died. Nothing hinted that things would get better. And as he took the first step, she was there behind him, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him back.

They met in private for years, spending weeks with each other whenever possible. Dad said that she was the most beautiful girl, with auburn hair and eyes like mine, a light gray.

Will listened intently the entire time, and seemed genuinely interested in Dad's ramblings. He was about to make a comment, in fact, when Dad stood abruptly.

"I don't… I…" He sighed softly. "I'd rather not continue on talking about her. I haven't seen her in years, and every day, I think of her. She was such a unique and amazing girl…" Dad chuckled. "Well, not girl. She's a lot older than that."

We ate dinner with my father, steak with mashed potatoes and sodas from the can. It was amazing.

As we sat back in the living room, full and exhausted, Dad spoke.

"When do you want to get your weapons?" A smile played on his lips.

"Weapons?" Will asked politely.

"Well, aren't I a demigod? Oh, and Jane…" He grinned at me. "I have something special for you. From your mother."


	6. Chapter 6

Dad took us to his study, a room on the second floor with walls made of bookshelves. I spent most of my time in here, reading on his little indoor hammock and looking out of the floor-to-ceiling window behind his desk. I looked out again. Snow was falling rapidly, and the wind was picking up, but it was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Will stood beside me, and for a second, our arms brushed. His was all taut muscle.

"This is beautiful," He murmured. "Wow."

Dad was rummaging through his bookshelf, and finally was able to get his hands on a lever and yank before the bookshelf shuddered and swung outwards. It opened into a dimly-lit, musty old closet full of glittering swords and sparkling knives.

"Holy crap," I remarked, striding towards the little closet. "This is awesome."

Will had already clipped a sword to his belt and a spear across his back, and was in the process of balancing a sword with a handle in the middle and blades extending from either end, _Star Wars _style.

"How long had you had these?" I asked in disbelief as Dad chuckled.

"Since I left Camp Jupiter," He smiled at me, and then turned his gaze to Will, who looked like a kid in a candy store. "Don't worry," Dad assured me, "He asked permission first."

I laughed., but was cut off by Dad's soft voice.

"I've got something for you, Jane. Come with me."

We crossed the room, leaving Will only a few feet away as Dad reached behind a haphazard pile of books to a small silver box no bigger than my palm. I'm not going to lie, I felt a twinge of disappointment. Mom ditches me at birth only to leave me what? I expected some type of bow, or even a sword, distinctive to my mother. But when Dad placed the box in my hand, a rush of energy went through me, and those thoughts went out the window.

The box shimmered when I moved it. There was a pearly moon on the front that seemed to wink up at me, and I couldn't stand it anymore. I fingered the lock, and the second my skin made contact, it opened with a soft _click_.

It looked like a Fitbit, like the ones Dad used to wear while running. It was a dark silver, dull and unspectacular.

"An exercise watch?" I asked, a hint of sadness coloring my voice. This wasn't exactly what I was expecting, even if it gave me a rush of energy at first. It looked _exactly _like a little Fitbit, the more I looked at it, and the more I looked at it, the more I hated it.

Dad laughed, loud enough so Will, who had gotten a duffel bag from the corner of the closet and was stuffing supplies inside, stopped and looked up.

"No, it's not an exercise watch," He chuckled, scratching his head as he looked down at it. "It's a weapon."

"Doesn't look like one," I muttered, and Dad just smiled.

"Just like one of those fitness things, tap it." He urged me, motioning with his own wrist. "There are different commands, you see. Your mother told me how to use it before she had to leave, and it really is spectacular."

I gave it a half-hearted tap, and immediately I felt stronger. Stronger, faster, more alert. The physical differences were so noticeable that I didn't even notice the long sword in my hand. It was a shining silver with a moon design etched towards the base of the blade, and was perfectly balanced in my hand.

Will's jaw was on the ground as he watched the sword appear. I tapped it once again and while the feeling of strength remained, the sword popped from existence. I hit it twice with the pad of my finger, and felt a lightweight mass on my back and wood in my hand. I looked down. A bow, and what I assumed were arrows on my back.

"Swift and painless death," My father whispered in awe as he stood back from me. "Endless arrows."

I looked at the bow. It was masterfully carved, and felt alive in my hands. The delicate weapon was already strung, and seemed to thrum with life as I held it in my palm.

I sheathed my weapons back to wherever they came from, and reached for my wrist again. Dad lunged towards me and stopped me before I could tap it, alarm etched onto his features.

"Not inside!" He shook his head wildly.

"Why? What does it do?" Will spoke with urgency, his voice full of astonishment. "Call a pack of wolves or something?"

Will spoke semi-sarcastically, but Dad nodded gravely.

A few minutes later, we were on the front patio, looking out at the falling snow. I looked at Dad, who nodded, and at Will, whose jaw was set. And then I struck the bracelet three times, holding my breath in the cold evening air.

The effect was instantaneous. A howl sounded from what seemed like miles away, and within seconds dozens of wolves poured into the driveway, big and small and strong and lithe. My mouth hung open as they all made their way towards us, nuzzling against our legs and panting like any normal dog would do.

They didn't really pay much attention to Dad, but they especially enjoyed both Will and myself. That was normal, I assumed, as Will was the son of Hecate, the dog goddess. They sniffed at our legs and yipped with pleasure as I scratched their ears, laughing a bit as I finally came to terms with who I truly was.

I was the daughter of Artemis, and I felt it now more than ever.

After a few minutes, the wolves began to act strange and a seed of panic planted itself in my chest. They scratched at their ears as if something was bothering them, and a few of them started to bark.

But after a few minutes and some panicked glanced exchanged between the three of us humans, we realized what was making them nervous. They seemed to relax instantly as a figure began to make its way towards the cabin, parting a path right to me on the driveway and the patio.

The wolves near us began to shy away, jumping the rail onto the driveway. They almost seemed to kneel, lowering themselves down as the figure drew closer.

Will unstrapped his spear and had it at the ready. My bow was in my hand and an arrow was nocked as the snow stopped, the wolves silenced as the person drew closer.

Finally, we could see them. Short and petite but with an athletic build, it was obviously a woman. Her face was covered by a silver scarf, and only her eyes peeked out.

Her eyes. Her eyes were marbles of pure silver, and I only knew them from one other person…

Apollo.

The bow fell from my hands with a clatter as my mother ascended the stairs up our little patio, and Dad choked.

Will knelt. Dad's knees buckled and he fell. I would've, as well, but something was holding me up, an iron rod in my back that had stiffened in respect.

Artemis stood in front of me and pulled the scarf down to her neck, revealing a face red with cold and full of youth. Her eyes had gained whites and now looked like any human eye, the color nearly identical to mine. Thick, smooth auburn hair was pulled back into a ponytail, medium-length. I compared it to my reddish-brown hair, not quite auburn but not quite brown either. We were so similar, in both looks and body structure. I was of medium height, about half an inch taller than her, with muscles like cords. Just by looking her up and down, I knew the same.

Artemis's mouth was half open, as if she was in awe. Her eyes were wide and she swallowed, hard, before speaking.

"Daughter," Her voice cracked and she raised a hand, as if to caress my face. All of the anger I had ever felt at my mother fell away as a tear threatened to spill out of her cheeks, and I saw the love in her eyes. It was the type of love that Aphrodite herself wouldn't feel, the type that was so primal and full of emotion that it knocked the air out of my lungs.

"It's really you," She whispered, her voice hoarse. "You're really here."

Normally, a witty comment would've sprung from my mouth the second she spoke, some sarcastic and hilarious comeback. Not today, though.

"Mom," I whispered. Mom. Mom. Mom. She was real.

And before I knew it, she had me wrapped in her arms and tears trickled from her eyes down my neck, and we were both crying silently, and then Dad's arms went around us both and he started crying, too.

After seventeen years, we were reunited.

The reunion didn't last long, as the second we broke away, a meteor crashed into the driveway.

It was a ball of rock and fire that caused Will to leap up and the wolves to stand at attention, pinning their ears back and growling at the sky, showing teeth.

"Go!" Artemis yelled, pushing me away as another rock started hurtling towards the house. "You need to get out of here!"

"No!" I screamed back. I had just met my mother, and she was already pushing me away? I felt a surge of stubbornness down to my bones. "There's nowhere to go! I can't leave you!"

The fireball made contact with the house, and it went up in flames. More were coming, and the sky was bright red with flames.

The world had caught on fire.

"San Francisco," She begged. "St. Regis. Go to the front desk, ask for Robert. You'll meet the third one there, but for now, you need to _trust _me…"

A meteor crashed right next from me, and what looked like flaming birds had begun to take flight, right for Will and I.

I knew that I had to listen. So I did. I obeyed.

"I love you!" She called as I turned and ran.

The world was falling apart around me, high-pitched whistling piercing the air and earthquakes riddling the ground. I could hear my father yelling, but I didn't understand him. I had to trust Artemis to protect him.

Will had grabbed my hand. I skidded down a steep slope, tripping over fallen branches and logs. I was covered in soot and fires raged around us as we struggled away, Will slowed due to his wound.

I still felt the rush of energy from my bracelet, and before I knew it, I was scooping Will up in my arms and pouring speed into my legs.

Branches whipped my face and fire nipped at my legs, a wall coming up behind me, and my chest felt like it was caving in as I sucked in smoke. Will had started gagging as I ran, but my legs were pumping and my feet were blurred as I tapped into the strength in my body.

I felt blood drip onto my shirt as a caw sounded behind us and one of the flaming birds dive-bombed my face and cut a gash in my cheek. Will had lost his weapons. I was struggling to see through the blood and the branches. It would be safe to say that we weren't exactly in the best shape.

"Where is St. Regis?" I yelled to Will over the crackling of flames. I didn't remember much of the city, but I imagined that he would.

Will choked and gagged. He was in no position to speak. The wounds on his chest had opened up once again, and the smoke was getting to him. I could feel myself getting light-headed now, but we were almost to the highway. There, we'd certainly get help.

The entrance to Camp Jupiter would be about thirty miles away. I'd imagine that now, with my speed, we'd be there in fifteen minutes.

But I didn't have that long. My shirt had caught on fire and I felt my back starting to blister. My shoes were melted on the backs. This wasn't just heat. It was… It was _unearthly_.

Then it hit me. The meteors weren't freak accidents. They were send by a deity. I'd had an idea of that before, but I wanted to think that it was just an accident, a message. But if this was a message, it wasn't a good one.

I heard a screaming in my ear and a ball of fire hit the ground right in front of me. I dug my heels into the ground and skidded to the right of the flames, almost running into a tree. I smelled only sizzling flesh as the flames ate my shirt away, but I had no time to be embarrassed. Finally, I heard the rush of cars ahead of me and leapt through the edge of the forest and into the real world.

I stumbled as I landed, my knees buckling. My back was in agony, my head pounded, my lungs cried out for oxygen. I couldn't stop now, though. I kept running.

I ran at a solid pace for about ten minutes before my body began to shut down. Will had passed out in my arms already, but he wasn't hurt other than inhalation and his cuts from earlier today. I felt blood shower into my eyes and felt a surge of weak anger.

Finally, I couldn't do it. My legs felt like noodles. I collapsed, Will being thrown away from my body as I writhed in pain, my world tinted black and red and every color. I screamed in agony, my back full of blisters and burns and misery.

We lay there for an eternity, my body shutting itself down as I lay on my stomach, snowflakes steaming on my ravaged flesh.

Then an angel came.

The angel was in the form of a tall, wiry body with a face like a teenager but a shock of pure white hair. His eyes were the lightest shade of blue I'd ever seen, and his skin was so incredibly pale.

He scooped me up, and I began to protest as much as I could, which is to say that I twitched like a dying fish.

"Will," I gasped, choking on my own air. I couldn't leave him behind. We had made it this far, we wouldn't be separated if I could help it.

"Don't worry, Flash," His voice was light and teasing. His hands were firm around my legs and back, and for a moment, I was comforted. All that I could feel was the sway of him carrying me and the pain a million miles away, like a minor annoyance.

Then everything went black.


End file.
